


why don't you cry?

by emmy (lemonswithoutlives)



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Drugs, F/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Roommates, Slow Burn, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:29:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29516742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonswithoutlives/pseuds/emmy
Summary: after the death of maeve, reid's friends convince him to get a roommate if he won't let them in to help.juno needs a place to live and with an fbi agent might not be her first choice, but it's the cheapest thing she can find on craigslist.(she likes his books and he pretends not to notice)
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	why don't you cry?

**Author's Note:**

> ive never written a c.m fic before but goddamn i'll give it a try. lmk how it goes? suggestions? criticism? anything? 
> 
> im here for it bud

juno needed a place to live.

she'd finally had enough with her roommate. there had been too many nights of screaming without being heard, fights that got swept under the rug, too many months of walking on eggshells for an alcoholic loser who didn't care about anyone else. she didn't tell him at first, just packed her boxes quietly in her room, slowly putting things away as she searched for a new place. there were a few different places she considered; the attic space with the old lady that needed someone to make sure she didn't fall down the stairs, the weird dude with too many fish and a greasy ponytail that made her feel vaguely violated, the commune that accepted everyone just out of town. nothing was fantastic but then again, how long had it been since she found a truly good place? she'd spent months hopping from bad situation to the next, doing her best to wait it out.

and then she found the perfect place.

the ad said '1 bedroom, connected bath. one roommate, shared space. i'm kind of a germaphobe and prefer my space untouched and unbothered. just need a peaceful roommate to fill extra room.' there were a few pictures, showing off a beautiful hardwood floor, filled bookshelves, and a sparse kitchen. the ad was just unspecific enough to weird her out only mildly and the pictures got her attention more than she liked. when she called, the owner talked fast and offered her the cheapest rent she'd had in three years.

she took it then and there.

-

paul was not happy when he found out she was leaving. not happy, though, was putting in mildly.

she found him in her room (which made every part of her skin crawl), sipping a bottle of wine and sitting on the corner of her unmade bed. she froze, hand still on doorhandle. he didn't look at her. she didn't look at him.

her boxes were packed into her trunk by the night.

she wasn't supposed to be moving in to her new place for another two weeks but she couldn't handle going back into her current one. paul had thrown such a drunken fit that for the first time, she had been afraid. she'd been afraid of what he might do, to her, to himself, to her things. so she sat in her front seat, legs tucked under herself, smoking a cigarette out the window and staring at her phone and wondering just what the hell she was going to do. did she want to risk pissing off the new roommate and try to move in early? or try to reach out to a few old friends and couch surf? except she didn't have many old friends left these days after cutting most of her ties to her old life. and she hated couch surfing, with a violent passion. she hated existing in someone elses space, tip toeing around and never quite being comfortable. she leaned her head against the cold glass of the half open window, sucking on her cigarette and sighed. This would be the 4th time in a year that she had to sleep in her car because she didn't have anywhere else to go and it was infuriating. she was desperately hoping this apartment would work out.

and maybe it would, this time.

\- 

by the time she moved in, she was desperate for a shower and a bed. her car had been cold and unforgiving on her body and she was ready to have a place to call home again. the owner met her downstairs, an extra key in hand. 

he was tall, with messy long hair, and a tired look to him. he was in a big sweater she would have loved to steal and sweatpants. it looked like he hadn't gotten out of bed in weeks. she was only mildly worried- she'd lived with people who saw things that weren't there, she could handle a dude with depression, as long as he didn't attach himself to her like a kid to its mothers leg. he was quiet, didn't meet her eyes very much. he offered to help her carry her boxes but she said no and he didn't argue. they walked silently to the apartment and he gave a quiet, short tour. it wasn't a big place, but more than comfortable for two people. 

he watched her from the doorway and she walked into her empty room. when she turned around, their eyes met. he smiled, softly. 

(it was the only time she saw him smile, for months.)


End file.
